Fade to Black
by Merccy
Summary: They say your life flashes before your eyes. (JS)


**Title: "**Fade to Black"

**Rating: **PG

**Summary: **They say your life flashes before your eyes. (J/S)

**A/N: **Some more 2:30 AM angst for you. You could call it part two in the "Let's-tell-everyone-how-much-your-life-sucks-by-means-of-2nd-person-POV-and-present-tense!" series. Unbeta'd, enjoy anyway.

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_ playingballwithjoemcguiretvonsaturdaymorningsmsappelgatesclassmominthecarrain_

"It's raining." She says in a soft voice. The building is dark except for the lone office you are in, working on a case together.

She sits on one of the chairs next to the window and places her finger on the glass, tracing the raindrop as it slowly travels down the pane. The city is dark, illuminated only by the glow from surrounding buildings and the cars below. But her eyes are wide, entranced by the rain dripping down the window, oblivious to the bright lights of the big city.

As she calls you over, her mouth curves upward into a childish grin. He can see the little girl in her now, no longer an FBI agent but instead an eight-year-old child, her hair carefully braided into plaits, weaving her finger around the window and following the rain.

Sitting across from her now, she looks content. You have nothing to say. The rain falling from the vast stretch of black cloud makes you feel infinitely small, so high above the ground yet so far away from the clouds that produce the rain. You are suspended, trapped, in so many more ways than one.

_ hannakateanniversarymiscarriageseperationreconciliationpromotionapartment_

She's crying. Tears are falling down her face slowly and you want to brush them off. But somehow you cannot touch her.

"It's so screwed." She whispers as you try to hold her. At first it is uncomfortable, and then she falls in place, like the missing piece to the puzzle of your life. The piece you have been searching for for your entire life.

They don't teach you how to deal with finding your first dead man rather than a live one. They don't teach you how to help someone else who has just experienced finding their first corpse, either. They don't have anything in the handbooks about the plummet that occurs in the stomach that makes you feel so worthless and physically ill. They don't, but they should.

But for now, you hold her and mutter _shh_, because it works. It is a sound that means nothing but still comforts her, so you continue for a long time. Eventually the crying stops, and part of you wishes it hadn't so you can go on holding each other forever.

The remaining tears that slide down her face look like rain. You want to trace their path down her face with your finger, but again, you cannot touch her. She doesn't let you feel that kind of courage, that kind of daring, when you're around her.

_ loseanothermembergainanothermemberballetrecitalspianolessonsleaving_

She's not the newbie she used to be. The rain is pouring but it no longer excites her. The innocence and naïveté she had when she first began her job have disappeared over time, slowly dissipating with each case.

Ignoring the rain, she pores over a file. All you can do is watch her, sitting across from each other in your office. When you and her first met, she would have noticed right away. But now it takes her longer. She finally looks up and stares right back at you until you break her gaze and resume your work.

But she does not. Slowly she makes her way to the window, watching the rain come down. You can tell you're both sharing the same memory as her finger idly follows the path of a raindrop.

Again you catch a glimpse of the little girl inside her, but this time it is different. This time she's no longer an eight-year-old girl, but instead a bright-eyed, eager rookie, sitting by the same window. She is a confused, hopeful agent who will change you over time along with herself again.

_martinhostagesituationbreakupreconciliationeveninghitandrun_

Images flicker into focus. Above you, rain. There's no window, though, for you to trace its path -- it is coming directly from the stormclouds overhead and you are lying on the ground.

Flashing lights obscure your vision, turning the smooth droplets of rain into cold shards of light that pierce you upon impact every time. You want it to be behind the window once more, where you can watch Sam gaze at it and not feel it covering you, hurting you, instead.

Every part of you aches, the frigid rain causing as much pain as the memories it brings with it. And then the lights stop. You can't feel anything, not even the rain. For a brief, beautiful moment, you are back watching her follow the rain down. _"Look, Jack. It's raining."_

That is enough to put a smile on your face as it all fades to black.


End file.
